WORLD Operative: Operation Recruitment
by SKwriter
Summary: After getting kicked out of his home, Gilbert's life gets thrown into a loop when two agents try to recruit him to a secret agency called the Worldwide Operation to Reprimand and Limit Disasters, WORLD for short. Bombing and hostage situations in every turn, will Gilbert be able keep himself alive? (Secret Agent AU).
1. Chapter 1

Twelve-year-old Ludwig Beilschmidt had always known that his brother and Father never got along. He had heard their screams and curses every night right after Father came home. He had heard his Father cursing under his breath, thanking Ludwig for not turning out like his brother. His brother, Gilbert was eighteen, already graduated with honors and currently taking a gap year for himself. His father would scream at his brother for not going to college and taking a break from school for one year. He would compare him to Elizabeta and Roderich, two of Gilbert's childhood friends constantly, without recognizing any of his son's own talents. He mercilessly scolded him for anything less than perfect.

If today was like any other fight it would have died down after a good thirty minutes, usually ending with one of them stormed out of the living room, but today the screaming went on for what seemed like hours, neither parties backing out. As the argument continued, their volumes began to rise. It was to the point that Ludwig couldn't block out the voices. Their muffled insults echoed throughout the house. Ludwig buried himself in the sheets, hoping that soon they would give up, but his hopes seemed fruitless.

Ludwig's brother may have been a bit irresponsible and lazy, but he was still a good brother. In rough days his brother would be the first one over there to comfort him. When Ludwig was sick Gilbert would play him a tune on his flute playing it till the younger boy fell into a deep slumber. When he went out to house parties he always made sure to ask Elizabeta to take care of him. He couldn't understand why his father hated his brother, so much. Gilbert did everything. Got good grade, kept up his reputation, he even took extra classes just to appease their father. Nothing he did seemed to be good enough.

"YOU, You spawn of satan," His father hissed, face scrunching up into a look of disgust.

Gilbert's lips tugged upward into a wry smirk. "Oh danke Father, I always wondered where you came from," He retorted smugly.

"Don't you dare talk to your father like that! You were so much better when your mother was still alive."

Gilbert scoffed at the statement. "Me, better! I was just the same as I was then and now. You just pretended not to notice while Mother was still alive!"

"All I know is that you're an ungrateful brat who doesn't deserve my kindness," His father countered scowling at his son.

"Kindness, is that what you are calling this mental abuse you put me through!" Gilbert screamed, inching closer to father. "When was the last time you actually took care of Ludwig or actually acknowledged his presence? What kind of father are you if you only care about money!"

He slammed his fists against the table. His father looked at him with disgust. "I should've known this would happen… I told Abigail to leave you on the street as a worthless piece of trash but no she felt sorry for you so she picked you up and took you in."

"I'm probably a pretty good piece of trash if I'm a better father figure to Luddy then you will ever be!" Gilbert attempted to wretch the memories of his mother from his mind. Beautiful blue eyes, a soft, caring smile, her warm hugs, god he missed her.

"Don't you dare bring him into this," his father snarled, "he has done a damn better job than you."

Gilbert clenched his fist until his knuckles are white. "How..how would you even know that Ludwig does when you're never there for him?"

"What…"

His red eyes blazed with hatred. "How many soccer games did you miss, how many competition did you skip, and how many birthdays just ended up 'slipping from your thoughts'?" Gilbert raised his fist, moving closer. " Don't you think he deserves a better father?" Gilbert let out a hollow laugh. "But no, money is all you care about isn't it. How about you just throw us out? I think maybe then you'll relieve your burden of having us."

Gilbert took in heavy breaths. His face flushed with anger, he grabbed his father's shirt by the collar. His father's eyes widened, horrified, backing away as Gilbert reeled his fist back.

"What are you doing," His father stuttered, shuddering.

Gilbert loosened his grip making his father drop to the ground. He face paled, realizing what he had just done. He put down his trembling fist, and his hand over his mouth. "I didn't...I didn't mean to…" he whimpered.

His father scowled, pushing his son away. "You are no son of mine!" the man screeched, raising his hand up.

Gilbert fell to the ground, his cheek throbbing from pain. He cupped his reddening cheek, shaking as he stared up at the man. His father's hardened face didn't waver, cold eyes glowered at Gilbert. His father had just struck him.

"Get. Out."

Gilbert froze in sheer horror. He couldn't leave this place, he couldn't just leave his little brother here. Opening his mouth to protest, the edges of his vision were blurring. He hung his head down, rapidly blinking to dry out the tears that were forming.

"You heard me. Get. Out."

Finally, he slowly got up from the ground, nursing his injured cheek. Walking to his room, Gilbert shoved his triumphant father, hoping to knock him down a peg."Fine." His voice was barely above a whisper.

He didn't utter another word to his father. He had lost this, there were no more second chances. He averted his eyes away from his father, not wanting to see his smug face. He stormed off into his room and packed as much as he could in his small duffle bag. There was food, clothes, extra cash, and a few things he could sell for money. Before zipping it up the bag, a small tattered stuffed yellow bird caught his eye. Smiling softly, he packed the bird in his bag. He would've never forgiven himself if he forgot it. He checked the bag to see if he had all he needed then left the room.

Quietly walking over to the back door, Gilbert slowly turned back around. He went over to a door, right next to his room. Slowly turning the knob, he pushed the door open. Much to his relief, the door barely squeaked. Gilbert crept into the room. Lying on the bed, asleep was his little brother. He looked so peaceful like that. Not at all like a boy to mature for his age, but like a innocent child. Gilbert felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that he was going to leave his brother, with his awful excuse for a father. Gilbert shook his head, trying to get the thought out of his head. Ludwig will be fine, father favors him, so he'll be okay.

Gilbert put down his bag and sat down on the edge of the bed, making sure not to accidentally sit on his leg. His brother stirred as he felt the bed sink ever so slightly. Gilbert planted a kiss on the top of his forehead. As he tried to get up, a hand shot up and gripped his arm. The albino jumped at the sudden movement, dropping his duffle bag.

Ludwig clutched on to his brother's arm. The young boy blinked sleepily before clearly looking at Gilbert. "Bruder?" Ludwig said, his voice quivering," Father is making you leave isn't he?"

Gilbert paused for a second, sitting himself back down on the bed. Shooting his brother a weak smile, Gilbert started. "Yeah and I'm not coming back for a long time." Gilbert whispered, not being able to meet his brother's eyes, "Luddy can you do something for me?"

Ludwig nodded and Gilbert smiled. "Could you tell Liz and that unawesome Rodrich not to worry about me, and could you start to be a lot braver," Gilbert continued, voice cracking."I'm not going to be here anymore so I need you to be strong Okay."

"Okay….but bruder."

"Yeah Luddy."

"I….I don't want you to leave!" Ludwig's big blue eyes flooded with tears. He tried to fight them off but they just kept coming down..

Gilbert quickly pulled him into a tight hug. "Ludwig, I know I'm terrible at keeping promises, but this is one I'm going to keep," He choked, "I promise I'll come back and that's a promise I intend to keep." Ludwig's soft sobs filled the silence. The two embraced the hug for a little while longer, before a shout was heard from the other side of the house. Gilbert let out a small string of curses before letting go of his brother begrudgingly. He gave his brother one final kiss on his head, not knowing when he would ever come back.

"Bye Luddy."

"Bye…... Bruder."

Gilbert picked up his bag and quietly left the room. He left out the back door not wanting to see his father again. He glanced at the house for the last time, fifteen years of his life was spent rotting in this hellhole but, he'd never admit this out loud, he would miss this place. He let out a little sigh before finally stepping into the car. He was going to need to go pretty far from here if he wanted to sleep. He drove off a good distance from town, where his friends wouldn't find him. He parked in a nearby store. All the lights were shut off, including the illuminating sign.

Not the way I wanted to spend my first day homeless," He muttered, "but I guess it's better than the streets." He secretly wished that his friends would miss him and come looking for him, but that in his mind was just wishful thinking, nothing more than that. He took out his blanket and his stuffed bird from his bag and laid down on his car seat. Drifting off into a dreamless sleep, he muttered,

"Good night Gilbird."

* * *

A young woman stared at her folder, frustrated and perplexed. The list of names was growing by the weeks. Applicants to suggestions, a sea of paperwork flooded her office. She was going to kill that frenchman for mixing his paperwork with her's. She ran her hand through her hair, rereading her papers. There was a list of familiar names that appeared several times. Looks like people applied more than once, how bothersome. She began to sort out the names carefully.

Her eyes scanned the names, tired of the same routine, until...what? A strange name appeared on the list. She didn't recognize the family name, and the person had no connection to the agency. No, she did recall seeing the name from somewhere. The woman flipped through her folder, when her eyes fell on a newspaper clipping. She dropped the folder, hands trembling. She hadn't seen that name in years, not since…. Her face scrunched up, absolutely livid. She snatched back up the folder and stormed out of the room, glaring at anyone who came in her way.

From the end of the hall, the sounds of curses could be heard. The curses increased in volume as the woman got closer to her destination. Everywhere she went, a chilling atmosphere followed. Spectators, that were just passing by, claimed that a murderous aura attacked them while walking down the halls. A few were still recovering from the initial shock. People already heard of the woman's combustion temper, but only few had seen it up close. On the other hand, many of the senior agents rolled their eyes, wondering what had happened now.

The woman finally reached the room of the source for all her rage. Her co-workers, who occupied the bullpen, buried themselves into their works, hoping that she wouldn't unleash her fury at them. She stood in front of a glass room. All the curtains, that covered the room, permitted no one to see what was going on inside. She rapped her fist against the door, impatiently tapping her foot. Suddenly the door swung wide open, the woman nearly hit the person who opened the door with her fist. The person merely ducked, to avoid a fist getting thrust at his face. He moved out of the way, receiving a well deserved 'sorry' in the form of a grunt.

The door slammed behind them as they walked toward a single desk. The room was enveloped in darkness, only the small crack from the door provided a sliver of light. The woman didn't mind though, she stormed up to the desk. Her eyes, barely adjusted to the light, squinting to see the person sitting on the desk. A click was heard, and a lamp on the desk, lit up the area. A young man sat in the desk, carefreely smiling. He seemed to be completely oblivious of the rage directed towards him.

The woman slammed the folder down on the desk and opened it to the list of names. "What. is. This." She hissed, pointed at the name that caused her distress.

The man peered down to look at the list. His face dawned in realization. "Oh, so you saw my choice," He said, pushing the folder back to the woman. "That boy would be quite an addition to this agency."

"You said, you'd keep as many civilians out of this," She slowly said between her teeth. She took in a deep breath, trying to her anger at bay.

The man huffed, rolling his eyes at the woman. "I said I would try," he pointed out, sitting up a bit straighter. "However, we've lost more operatives this year than we have in since Operation Brookwood."

She flinched at the mention of that operation. She tried to shake away the memories, it wasn't the time to remember that. "...why now?" She asked, shoulders tensing. "If he would've been 'quite an addition to the agency'," Her fingers air quoted those words.

The man started tapping his chin. "Well, it seems that a little birdy told me that, the boy won't be going home for a while now," he said.

Narrowing her eyes, the woman leaned in. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm saying," the man paused, grinning wildly, "the boy has been kicked out of his home."

The woman stood there, silent. This was so like him, how long has he been keeping tabs on that boy? Her teeth clenched, she turned on her heel. "When do you need me to go out?"

"..." the man looked up, "In two hours."

The woman started walking away.

"Wait."

She abruptly stopped at the sound of his voice.

"Remember," he started, "he has the choice to join are not, he can reject our offer whenever he wants."

"Don't you think I already know that," she spat. And with that, the woman walked out of the room.

The man let out a sigh. He turned to the person, who let the woman in, smiling weakly. "Get her partner to go with her," he ordered.

The boy stiffly nodded, before leaving the room. The man peered at through the folder, that the woman had left, and flipped to a newspaper clipping. He took it out and left it on his desk, the lamp light shining directly at the picture on the article. A beaming boy's face was printed on the picture, holding a huge trophy. A stone faced man loomed above the boy. The caption under the was bolded in all caps,

 _"Child Prodigy in our Proud City_

 _Gilbert Beilschmidt"_

* * *

 **A/N Welp I'm doing this now. This is a new, not so new AU. I came up with this AU a couple of years ago, but never really written anything until now. I hope you enjoy, reviews, favorites and followers are appreciate. My tumblr is analyticalotaku. I may put up art work for this on there, maybe some info on the AU. I don't know what I'm doing.**


	2. Chapter 2

Gilbert awoke to the sound of gunshots and shattering of glass. He quickly shot up, frantically looking around for the source of the sound. The ringing of the gunshots echoed throughout the car. Pieces of glass and bullet shells scattered all over the ground. Gilbert, panicked, attempted back away to the edge of his seat. Palms clammy, shallow breathing, Gilbert had to bite his tongue to keep himself from screaming. A thousand thoughts circled in his brain, his chest began to tighten up, and beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. He desperately pressed his hands against his ears to mute out the sound. This couldn't be happening.

The man had heard of mob fights taking place in his neighborhood in the news but in a parking lot? That was just unheard of. Bullets showered down on his last remaining window, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces. A piece of glass flew through the air, barely grazing his cheek. Gilbert felt the blood dripping down his face from his stinging wound. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled up into a fetal position. He was terrified.

'I can't die here,' he internally cried. There were too many things he had yet to do, too many places he'd yet to see, people that he wanted to meet, and most importantly he had promised Ludwig that they would meet again. He couldn't go like this, he couldn't just die!

 _Breathe_

Gilbert's whole train of thought came to a screeching halt.

 _Come on Gilbert, just like did before, a warm silky voice echoed through his head. In for four…_

The voice was so familiar. He remembered a young woman rubbing circles on his back. A young boy curled up into a ball, whimpering. That was years ago, but he could remember that voice clearly. Gilbert couldn't help but hesitantly compiled. Attempting to steady his breath, Gilbert blew out all the air in his lungs. He took a deep breath in for four seconds.

 _Hold it in for seven seconds._

He could hear the sound of his own heartbeat overpowering the firing of gunshots.

 _Breathe out for eight…_

A steady stream of warm air escaped from his lips. He could hear the thumping of his heart start to steady. His mind continued to be a whirlwind of chaos, but it started to calm ever so slightly.

 _Repeat_

Gilbert repeated the process several times as the fighting and possible murder was happening all around him. His mind became more clear as the oxygen flowed more calmly into in brain. The panicked voices in his head began to settle down, being replaced by much more calmer thoughts. He slowly opened his eyes and uncurled himself. Gilbert's breath hitched when another bullet fired through his broken window. He tried to block out the sounds while grabbing his duffle bag.

The duffle bag easily slipped down the car floor. Gilbert dusted off the pieces of glass, cutting his fingers in the process. He winced but continued. Holding his breath, Gilbert slowly opened unzipped his bag silently. Much to his relief the zipper barely made a sound. He began to remove items from his bag. First, he discarded a few articles of clothing he didn't need. He left maybe just one shirt, a pair of pants, and a black hoodie. He could just wash the clothes that he was wearing and switch between the sets. Then he took out all the food. He could just buy some more, those will slow him down. He continued to remove item after item from his duffle bag, carefully putting them next to the bag. Once he finished, all that was left was a toothbrush, one set of clothing, and a wallet. He was just about to zip it up when he noticed his stuffed bird lying on the ground. He looked from his bag to the bird.

'I need to prioritize,' he thought, attempting to tear his eyes away from the bird.

He needed to give it up one day. It was just a stuffed bird, nothing special. He was an adult, he couldn't just carry it around with him everywhere...but,

He remembered that woman again, the one with a voice that could make a grown man melt. The woman who helped him out in his times of panic. The woman who took pity on him. The woman who took him in. He could picture those delicate blue eyes, not looking down on him but leveled, staring directly into his eyes. Her laugh that could liven up the house.

 _Mom_

Gilbert gritted his teeth. He snatched up the bird and stuffed it in his bag. He would let go of it eventually, just not today. He zipped up his bag and quietly unlocked the car door. He was going to make a run for it. He saw most of the bullets enter in from the left side of his car. If he was lucky, he could outrun the people on the right side of his car and escape this battleground. He pressed his back against the door, ducking so he wouldn't be seen through the shattered window. Waiting for the opportunity to escape, Gilbert froze. Two hushed voices were exchanging whispers right in front of his car.

"Are you sure this is it?" Gilbert could just barely hear the voice. It was a very masculine voice. He could also detect a hint of an accent. French maybe, Gilbert couldn't tell from this distance.

"Yes I'm sure," another voice snapped. A female, Gilbert noted. "I've checked the license plate twice already."

The man let out a sigh. "I'm not sure about this mon cheri," he started, "he's just so young."

"What are you talking about? You registered when you were fifteen, and don't call me your dear!"

"I knew exactly what I was getting myself into," he protested, "this guy, he just got kicked out, does the chairman have no soul."

Gilbert couldn't hear her response and frankly, at this point, he didn't want to. Were they just talking him? That couldn't be it. Gilbert frantically shook his head, as if he were trying to shake away the thoughts. He had to get out of here.

He gripped the door handle, hand trembling. One mistake could cost him his life, this was it. Then suddenly Another round of gunshots were heard and then they stopped. Through cracked windows of his car, he saw smoke rise into the car. 'They didn't bomb them did they?' Gilbert questioned, but he mentally kicked himself.

There was no explosion. This was the perfect time to get out. The smoke should mask his presence. He grabbed his bag and opened the car door as quietly as he could. Unfortunately, he wasn't quiet enough.

"Well, at least we didn't have to break in."

Gilbert stood face to face with two masked figured.

The woman hit the man upside his head. "Is that what's most important here?" she hissed.

The man flinched. "Ow, what was that for, you barbaric woman!" he whined.

"For not prioritizing."

Unbeknownst to the bickering couple, Gilbert stood there in front of them, paler than he thought was possible. He stepped a few steps back as if hiding back inside the car would do anything. A loud bang snapped the two out of their arguing. The woman cursed under her breath. Gilbert felt a jolt as she grabbed his wrist. He quickly pulled his arm to his chest making the woman lose her grip.

"What….what do you want with me?" He stammered, finally getting a word out.

The woman growled in annoyance. "Are you kidding me?"

"Mon Cheri, please," the man snapped, reeling the woman in, he shot Gilbert an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about my partner, she is...always like this." He admitted. "But, I do believe you might want to come with us."

"No-"

Gilbert heard a crash behind him and the man cursed.

"If you want to live, come with us!" the woman yelled, "The smoke screen is starting to fade."

The woman was right. The smoke screen started to lift up. Gilbert could see the silhouettes of people on the other side of his car. Mindless shooting surrounded their area, bullets lodged themselves into cars, and the noise was deafening. He needed to make a decision. Gilbert's eyes darted from the two people and the other side of the car. If he stayed he would die, if he left with the two strangers he didn't know what would happen to him. He didn't know, he just didn't know. He felt the panic start to rise back up. He shut his eyes tightly.

 _Breathe, Breathe_

"Oh for goodness sakes!"

The woman grabbed his wrist once more. Gilbert didn't even have time to shake it off. She started running at inhuman speeds, dragging Gilbert behind her. Gilbert struggled to keep up. His body was moving faster than his feet. He constantly felt as if his legs were going to give up on him, but they continued to move. His chest tightened with every gulp of air. He flinched at every gunshot. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears. The wind stung his eyes, but he didn't care. The only thing going through his head was, _'I need to survive.'_

The man was right beside him, constantly looking over his shoulder. Bullets were still being fired from a distance. Gilbert managed to catch a glimpse of what was going on behind him. The smoke, that managed to keep them safe, had already been lifted. A group of figures was already hot on their trail. The man let out a string of curses. Slowing down, he pulled out a handgun.

"Go on ahead!" he yelled in between breaths, "I'll hold them off." His words were followed by a yelp. Gilbert turned around to see that man nursing a bloody shoulder.

The woman, for the first time, looked back. Her pace slowed down, enough for Gilbert to catch a quick breath. The woman tightened her grip, causing Gilbert to wince. "No need," She called back, taking something out of her belt.

Gilbert noticed, in her palm, rested a tiny circular item. She halted to a stop, her breathing labored. She took one look at figures then threw the circular object. Gilbert quickly brought his arm up to his face in an attempt to shield it, however, the woman looked unfazed. The second the ball hit the ground, the woman started running. From the corner of his eye, he could see a sea of smoke erupt from the ball. The man had shot a couple of rounds before limping after them.

Gilbert's legs felt like they were lead, but adrenaline pumped through his veins, keeping him from collapsing. The woman turned to a corner, where two tall building loomed over them. She continued to sprint until the reached a dead end. She let go of Gilbert and leaned up against one of the concrete walls, breathing heavily. The man followed in suit, pressing his hand against his shoulder. Gilbert doubled over, coughing. His legs his buckling, his lungs were on fire, and his head was pounding.

"You alright there, Paris?" The woman asked. Her voice raspy from exhaustion.

The man, Paris looked at his shoulder. A dark liquid had seeped through his clothing and made its way on to his hand. "I'll survive," he simply replied. He turned to Gilbert and asked, "what about you?"

Gilbert looked up at them, wide-eyed and terrified, not being able to find any words. He didn't understand, no he couldn't fathom to understand what was going on. He couldn't trust these two. They could be leading him to a slaughterhouse for all he knew, but what could he do? It wasn't like he could just run out of there. At the end of that alleyway were people who wanted him dead. He didn't even know why. A sinking feeling of despair and paranoia began to enlarge within.

"What- what is going on," He managed to spit out. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, due to the exhaustion and fear that laced his word. "Who… the hell are you?"

Paris began to approach him, almost sympathetically. He reached out his arm toward Gilbert, attempting to clasp it on his shoulder. "Mon ami, we are-"

Gilbert slapped his hand away instantly. He began to back away, helplessly, until his back was pressed against the wall. He was paler than he thought possible. "Don't touch me," He hissed.

He had to get, he had to get back. He promised.

Pulling back his hand, Paris almost looked hurt. "I'm...sorry," He muttered, glancing over at the woman. The woman merely sighed.

"We don't have time to explain much," the woman simply replied, albeit softer. "I... we're not here to hurt you, if we were we would've left you to them." The woman gestured to the end of the alley. "We're just asking you to trust us right now after this is finished," she hesitated. "you can go back home."

Gilbert stared at her, dumbfounded. Was she telling him, after all of this was over he could just walk home? He knew that he shouldn't trust her. Every part of his body was telling him no, but… that sense of hope, hope that he'll be able to go back to his brother. He'll be able to see him again. "Dammit" he muttered, "fine."

Paris seemed to have brightened significantly, offering the albino a week smile. The woman nodded. She pulled out a tiny laser pointer from her belt and tossed it to Paris. The man fumbled, barely catching the item with his one unoccupied hand. The woman received a sharp glare for that. Paris turned on the laser pointer, aiming the green light directly in one of the open windows. Gilbert watched as the man turned the light off and on, creating a series of patterns.

Short, long, short short

'Was that….Morse?' he thought.

 _"A-D-D-E-R N-O-W "_

Upon receiving the message, there was a crash heard from the window. Paris winced, while the woman shook her head. The trio waited for about a minute or so when a ladder dropped from the window.

The woman looked directly at Gilbert "Go ahead," she said, motioning towards the ladder.

He looked up at the ladder. The window couldn't have been more than thirty feet above the ground. Gilbert looked back over to the woman, then began to climb. It was when he started climbing, he realized how badly his muscles ached. His legs were starting to tremble and his hands could barely keep their grip. He couldn't count how many times, he nearly lost his grip. Luckily, he had got to the window sill before anything could happen.

With his last remaining strength, Gilbert pushed himself through the window. He collapsed on the floor, his legs throbbing with pain. He could hear light footsteps walking to him. A tiny pale hand came into view. Gilbert forced his head up to see whose hand it was. Upon seeing the person, Gilbert's eyes widened in horror. Two long twin braids draped themselves onto the person's shoulder. Doe-eyed and a wide genuine smile was painted on her face. A small build and small frame.

A child. She couldn't have been any older than Ludwig. They had brought a small child with him. Suddenly he couldn't help but notice Paris' wounds. The man was applying pressure to the wound, the blood staining his hand. The woman was by his side, bandage in hand. Paris bit his lip as a pair of tweezers neared his wound.

"This is going to sting," she murmured.

Paris let out a sigh. "Just do it," he snapped.

Gilbert couldn't bare to look at the scene. He could hear the man sucking the air through his teeth, barely containing a scream. Gilbert cringed at the sound. The blood, the guns, this child could die. Paris was shot... what could happen to her then? What was she doing here with them?

"Um?"

The girl awkwardly shifty her feet, still extending her arm.

Gilbert realized the girl was still there. He reluctantly took her hand and was promptly pulled up. "Hi," she chirped, shaking Gilbert's hand, "I'm Sicily, it's nice to see you made it here safely."

"More or less," he managed to choke out.

"We can't our guard down yet," The woman cut in. The bandage that was in her hand, was now securely wrapped around Paris' shoulder. A bloody bullet was discarded on the floor.

It took him a second to realize what was different. Next to the bullet was two masks. Gilbert stared at the two people, mouth agape. Behind that mask, the woman owned a beautiful set of forest green eyes. She had blond hair tied into a tight bun and shockingly large eyebrows. The man, on the other hand, had blonde hair that dropped down to his neck. He had dull violet eye. A barely noticeable stubble grew on his chin. Bewildered, Gilbert realized that they were only a couple of years older than him.

Paris weakly laughed. "Mon ami, you'll catch flies."

* * *

 **A/N Hey, I actually posted a chapter in a reasonable time. I swear Paris and Sicily are not OCs. Just wait .**


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert was itching to get out of this place as fast as he could. They had been in this abandoned building for too long. The room in which they resided in was tight. The woman, who he later learned went by London, told him that they would have to hide out in this room for awhile. At least until they were sure the coast was clear. The musty air was irritating his nose, clogging it up. The walls felt as if they were closing in on him. He had never liked small rooms anyways. London would occasionally peak her head out of the room, before instantly bring it back in, irritated.

Sicily and Paris had attempted to strike up a conversation with Gilbert but ultimately failed. It wasn't their fault, Gilbert wasn't in the mood to talk. Everything was happening so fast. He was running for his life only hours before. His minor wounds had still yet to scab, but it felt like the whole ordeal happened ages ago. He couldn't grasp the idea that not even twenty-four hours before this all happened, he was at home, fighting with his father like he always did. It hadn't even been a full day since he was kicked out of his own home since he promised his little brother that he would be back.

He was trapped with these strangers, who had the ability to kill whoever they came into contact with. What was up with their names? Those couldn't have been their real names, right? Paris and London were pretty normal names, but Sicily couldn't possibly be the young girl's real name. Gilbert could only guess whether those were real names or not. To be honest, he should've been pondering over more important things like, 'what exactly these people wanted with him?' but he didn't see the point. Thinking about it would only lead to more panic, and heaven knows he had done that enough today.

Gilbert tapped his fingers against the ground. "...So," he started awkwardly, "what's with your names?"

London looked up at the man, dumbfounded, blinking owlishly. Sicily covered her mouth, snickering ever so slightly. Paris, on the other hand, was on the ground in laughing fit. He was shaking on the ground, so much that London had to keep him up. Gilbert stared at the scene. London, trying to keep Paris from causing a ruckus. Paris, laughing as if he hadn't been shot just moments earlier. Sicily giggling like the child she was. The scene played in front of him felt so domestic. If it weren't for the situation at hand, Gilbert would've joined in as well.

"Are... are you kidding me!" Paris managed to say between breaths. He calmed himself down before continuing. "After all of this, that's the question that you ask." Paris let out a chuckle. "You are really something mon ami."

Gilbert didn't know whether to be offended or not. He settled for a poker face. "Okay…" Gilbert trailed off. "But seriously, what is up with your names. I understand get Paris and London, but Sicily, you can't tell me that that's a real name."

Sicily puffed up her cheeks. "That's rude," she pouted. "Sicily is a real name!."

Gilbert sighed. "Fine, let me reword that. Why would all three of you be named after a well know the city?" He asked.

London smirked. "Now, now Gilbert, don't you ever believe in coincidences?" She teased, condescendingly.

If there was a table near him, Gilbert would've slammed his head against it. "You know what, forget I asked. I give up," he groaned, slumping against the wall. "I hate my life."

Paris shot the man an amused look. "London stops messing with the poor boy," He finally cut in. "If you really must know, these names are our alias that we go by out on the field."

"Thanks, Paris," Gilbert muttered. "... at least there is someone who's willing to help me out here."

"I'm happy to help."

Gilbert was about to say something, but then London stared at the three wide-eyed. Gilbert was startled by her sudden change in expression. The woman put her finger to her lip. Paris and Sicily nodded in understanding. Gilbert shut his mouth and listened. Crouching, London made her way to the closed down. She pressed her ear against the door. She stayed there for a couple of minutes, listening intently. Gilbert stared, desperately wanting to know what was going on.

Finally, London got up from the door. She walked over to the three others and smirked. "Well it looks like the coast is clear," She stated, "we best get going now."

She offered her hand to Gilbert and he took it, pulling himself up. The woman inspected the man from head to toe, before shaking her head. This wasn't good. The man's blinding white hair and blood red eyes made him stand out like a Christmas tree in spring. Nevertheless, he needed to cover up. "Do you have anything, like a hoodie?"

Gilbert paused to think for a second. He looked down at the ground to see a duffle bag lying on the floor. He had almost forgotten that he had brought the bag with him. He kneeled down and zipped open the bag. He rummaged through his pants and his t-shirt when he found a black hoodie. He held it out to London. "Is this good enough?"

London nodded. "Yeah, now put it on already."

"Wow, pushy, pushy."

Gilbert sighed and wiggled his way into the jet black hoodie. The hoodie was a bit tight on him, but there wasn't much anyone could do about it. He put up the hood of the hoodie and glared at the two standing in front of him. "Well, let's go."

London grabbed him tightly by his wrist and started dragging him out before he could reply. Gilbert tried to keep his head down as they exited the building.

Gilbert watched Paris and Sicily carry out a casual conversation as they walked down the sidewalk. He was shocked, he himself could barely stop shaking, but these people were chatting as if they hadn't been gunned down just a few minutes ago. He turned to look at London, but she only glared at him. "Act natural," She hissed under her breath, "I see three gunmen."

Gilbert stiffened. There was still more of them there? He quickly tried to relax not wanting to attract any attention. The walk felt like hours as sweat started to form on his forehead. They finally arrived in front of the car with no problem except Gilbert's inability to speak. Gilbert went into the car, and for the first time, he didn't pause or linger. He slipped into the car with ease just wanting to get out of the place. The rest followed in suit. London was in the driver's seat while Paris claimed shotgun. Sicily sat with him in the back.

"I suggest you get some sleep," London said, "It's going to be a long ride before we get to our destination.

Sleep would've been a miracle. Just when he was finally starting to relax a little his adrenaline pumping through his veins. He tried to convince himself that he was safe now, but he just couldn't seem to believe himself.

Sicily was already fast asleep, taking up the middle seat with her head. Gilbert couldn't help but wonder, how in the world did a young girl like that, get caught up in this sort of h-ll? She seemed so calm, and almost desensitized to what was going on around her. Did her family know about this? He couldn't imagine what he would've done if Ludwig was in this position. Paris must've caught him staring because he began to speak.

"Sicily was born into this," Paris remarked casually, glancing at the two. "She officially got in at the age of eight, but she knew exactly what she was getting herself into."

"She's a child, how would she know what exactly she was getting herself into?" Gilbert hissed, glaring at the man. Is was then when he realized that he had subconsciously stuck out his hand in front of the young girl, protectively. He quickly pulled back his hand.

Paris shot the man an amused look. "Getting quite attached."

"She's a child!" Gilbert snapped. "How are you okay with this, how can anyone be okay with this?" Gilbert's voice rang throughout the car.

London gripped the steering wheel tight. Gilbert continued, "You two are running from gunmen and getting shot at but you're completely okay with a child in the middle of this." Paris bit his lip, turning his head towards the window. "Have you no soul? No child should ever be mixed up in this sort of thing. You're monsters."

"Do you think we want this for her!" Only one hand remained on the steering wheel. Blazing green eyes furiously met his scarlet red eyes. "Of course we don't want this for her, what kind of people do you think we are?" Paris' mouth went agape as he frantically reached for the steering wheel. "Do you know how much I begged to keep her out of this!" London hissed. The car swirled out of control for a split second before Paris held onto the steering wheel. London had turned around, her face, livid. Gilbert pushed his back against the car seat, eyes widening in fear.

"LONDON!" Paris' voice screeched frantically. He was barely gripping the wheel. "For god's sake. Put your hands back on the wheel!"

In an instant, London had both hands on the wheel. Her eyes left Gilbert's face and directed themselves directly at the road. Paris let go of the wheel, letting out a sigh of relief. Sicily only slightly stirred.

"Gilbert," London started in a dangerously quiet voice. "If you think for a second that we wanted her to go through this, you're gravely mistaken."

London was met with silence.

The rest of the car ride was relatively quiet. Although Gilbert claimed that he wouldn't be able to sleep, about an hour in Gilbert was fast asleep. His adrenaline rush crashed, and left him exhausted. London had spent the ride calming herself down from her outburst. The sun was at its peak and its blinding rays distracted London from driving. Paris causally passed her a pair of sunglasses.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch?" He asked. "You seem pretty tired."

London shook his head. "We're almost there. There's no point in switching out now."

Paris let out a sigh. "... Well, are you alright then?"

"What are you talking about?" London immediately asked. "I'm fine."

He scoffed. "That outburst of your's begs to differ."

"Paris, drop it." She warned.

Paris put up his hands in the defense. "Alright, alright, I get it."

London felt his eyelids grow heavy. She grabbed her cup of coffee and took a sip. Only a few more minutes, she could survive this. The car speeded through the paved road. London drove straight into a densely wooded forest. The road was pretty much nonexistent. London dodged the trees, making sharp turns. Paris tightly gripped his seat as the car swirled through the woods. Gilbert and Sicily were tossed around inside the back. Surprisingly Sicily stayed asleep, but Gilbert was shaken awake.

Gilbert groaned, sleepily blinking. "What the f-" London made another sharp turn and Gilbert fell out of his seat.

"Sorry."

Gilbert slowly got up from the ground. "Are you kidding me!" He got back up on his seat and looked through the window. "Why are we off the road?"

"Could you drive a bit more carefully?" Paris screeched, visibility disheveled.

The two were simply met with a cackled. London slammed the breaks. Gilbert and Paris were thrusted forward slamming themselves onto whatever was in front of them. Sicily stirred awake. She got up from the seat and let out a little yawn.

"Morning," She greeted.

"Nice to see you awake," London replied, kicking open the door.

Paris caught his breath. "What- what were you thinking." He said in between breaths.

London rolled her eyes. "What are you complaining about," She muttered, getting out of the car. "I got us here, didn't I?"

Gilbert crawled out of the car and Sicily followed soon after. Paris stood next to London using her shoulder as support. Gilbert surveyed the area. Thousands of trees surrounded them. The sun was directly above but leaves created a canopy, shading the four of them. He couldn't under how the car didn't crash with all of these trees.

"What in the world are you talking about," Gilbert hissed. "We're in the middle of the woods, where are we supposed to be." London had a shadow of a smile.

Then suddenly ground opened below, enveloping Gilbert whole. 


	4. Chapter 4

An ear piercing scream echoed through the tunnel. Gilbert was plummeting to his death, he was sure of it. The dark hole seemed to be endless. He kept falling and falling, there seemed to be no end to this nightmare. In a desperate attempt to slow himself down, Gilbert tried to push his hand against one of the walls. The pain hit, searing through his hand like fire. Gilbert instantly pulled his hand back, wincing in pain. He looked down at his hand and gasped. The upper layer of his skin was ripped off, leaving a nasty burn. Blood was beginning to erupt from his wound. Gilbert grabbed his wrist and squeezed it tight. More blood.

His chest tightened as his hand throbbed. He knew he knew he shouldn't have trusted them. All the alarms were going off in his head, yet he didn't listen. Gilbert forced himself to look down, the pressure on his head felt as if it could snap his neck. His hand stung, the pressure felt as if it was going to rip the wound apart. Gilbert could barely open his eyes with wind pressure in his face, but when he did he saw it. He saw it, the end of the tunnel. An almost pearly white floor awaited him at the end. He felt his stomach dropped. He couldn't survive that fall, he didn't need math to know that. Gilbert raised his arms up to his face and braced for impact.

The first thing that he felt once he hit the ground was something soft. A fresh smell of lavender overtook his senses. He heard a series of chattering from above. Gilbert was puzzled. Dozens of thoughts flooded his head at once. Did he die, was this the afterlife? Why did the afterlife smell like lavender? Gilbert barely had time to gather his thoughts when something grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the area.

"Are you insane? Get out of the way!"

Gilbert attempted to get up, rapidly blinking his eyes to adjust his vision. A young man towered above him. "This is our newest recruit, really?"

A familiar voice rang in his ear. "Back off Yao, give him some space."

Gilbert was in a daze. People and voice began to blur together. The light the surround the area seemed to be a bit too bright to be real. The noise was starting to muffle, his vision became a mess. He could see figures enter and exit his field of vision, but nothing was distinct enough to make out. The world around him was starting to spin. He found himself attempting to push himself up, but his body wouldn't allow it. Those figures towered over him, their voices carried a weight of concern. Gilbert felt his eyelids grow heavy. The world around him was starting to darken. The last thing he heard before the world faded to black was,

"Hey you'll be alright, we've got you."

* * *

The first thing that Gilbert felt as he regained consciousness was warm. He had yet to open his eyes, but he could already feel the bright light attacking his retinas. Groaning, Gilbert fluttered his eyes open, glaring at the source of the burning light, a ceiling fan. Although he was sore, the man pushed himself and propped himself up against the wall. The place looked unfamiliar. Beds were lined up against the wall, stretching as far as he could see. A hospital? Then… was it all a dream. Maybe none of it happened, after all, it was just part of his imagination from stress. Yeah, that had to be it. A sharp pain from his hand snapped him back into reality. He turned his head to see his hand wrapped tightly with bandages. The grim realization had dawned upon him. It wasn't just a dream.

He saw a woman enter the room, two people were trailing behind her. She had dirty blonde hair that fell to her shoulder and the most intense shade of blue eyes. Gilbert tensed up as the woman approached his bed. The woman smiled warmly at Gilbert as she pulled out a chair and sat herself down. "It's great to see you awake, man," she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "You had a pretty rough landing out there. One of the worst I've seen. You should get an award for that."

Hearing her teasing tone of voice, Gilbert couldn't help but crack a grin. "I better get a fucking trophy. I deserve one for all the shit that I've gone through,"

The woman chuckled. "You're great," she said, hitting him on the back, causing the man to wince. "I like you, Gilbert right?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, that my name don't wear it out," he teased weakly. "How about you, or are you just going to give me a code name like the other three?"

"You don't need to worry any longer," she announced. The woman extended her hand towards Gilbert. He could see one of the two people behind her open his mouth to protest, but she quickly cut him off. "The name is Amelia Jones, codename America!"

"It's nice to meetcha Amelia," Gilbert said, taking the hand and shaking it firmly. "It's great to finally have a real name."

Amelia smile quickly turned into a face of concern. "But honestly, how are you feeling?" She asked, pressing her hand against his head. "That landing was terrible, you sure you only hurt your hand up there?"

Gilbert flinched at her touch, nearly hitting his head against the wall in surprise. Amelia seemed to have noticed this, withdrawing her hand as if she was just burnt. "Sorry," She said sheepishly, "I have a kid back at home, and sometimes I go back to mama bear mode. Alice gets pissed at me whenever it happens."

Raising a brow, Gilbert asked in disbelief, "A kid?" Amelia looked so young, Gilbert couldn't even imagine her having a kid.

"Yep, a ten year old. His name is Alfred," Amelia's eyes seemed to glow as she talked about her son. "He is the light of my life. I just signed him up for baseball last month and the kid is already a natural. I can tell that he's gonna be great."

"I bet he will be."

Amelia looked back at the other two behind her and hit herself upside the head. "I totally forgot to introduce you two these two." Dramatically gesturing to the two people, she began, "This over here is Yao Wang. Looks like a girl but do not, under any circumstance, underestimate him. I got a broken rib from the last time a sparred with him." If looks could kill, Amelia would've been surely dead by the glowing look the Chinese man was giving her. "Tall and brooding is Ivan Braginski." The other man looked almost indifferent to Gilbert.

"It's great to meet you two."

"Now that I got you all acquainted, I bet you have some questions, I mean dude if you didn't I'd be concerned," she said.

"You took the words right outta my mouth," Gilbert said dryly. "I mean to put it lightly, you guys kidnapped me."

Amelia scratched the back of his neck "Yeah…" Amelia trailed off, "this really looks bad doesn't it."

"No kidding."

Amelia let out a sigh. "Well that the World Operation for you," She muttered under her breath. Amelia looked up at the man, seriously. "Look, this place…" Amelia glanced back at the two men warily. "This is the headquarters of the World Operative. We're an organization that aims to eliminate other organizations that plans to harm this country. You could say we're like secret agents who hunt down the bad guys that the government just can't be bothered to take care of themselves."

"Then what do you want with me?" Gilbert hissed.

Amelia held her hands up in defense. "Woah, dude no need to be so aggressive. Use that big brain of yours, you're a prodigy after all."

Gilbert paused. He should've been concerned about how the woman knew he was a prodigy, but he was too focused on his question. Then it hit him. "...you guys, you're trying to recruit me."

"Correction, the boss wants to recruit you, not me."

"Throwing me under the bus, aren't you America?"

Amelia visibly tensed. She quickly turned to the source of the voice. "Hey Boss," she squeaked, standing up from her seat. "How you've been doing dude. Well, GIlbert's here so I'll leave you two to it." Amelia quickly backed away, motioning the other two to do the same. "Bye!" Amelia slammed the door shut.

The boss chuckled, he took a seat next to Gilbert. "It's nice to see you recovering swimmingly," The man said, a small grin playing on his face.

Gilbert glared at him. "No thanks to you," he snapped, refusing to even look at him.

The man let out a sight, "I understand how this looks, but I am sure that Amelia explained what exactly we do." He was met with no response. "You don't have to join if that is what you want, however, we would like you to consider taking a trial run."

Gilbert stared at the man in disbelief. They went through all that trouble just to get him there, and now they are giving him a choice. He was shot at, kidnapped, and thrown into a hole and this is what he's left with. It felt too easy. How in the world did they get anyone in this organization? Was he just supposed to believe he could just leave if he wanted to? Gilbert was tired, he was just so tired and he didn't know. Every part of him was telling him to leave, but a small, very tiny but vocal part of him was screaming wait. Wait and see what happens.

"...Trial run?" Gilbert hesitantly inquired.

The man perked up. "Oh, well the trial run is when we let you go on a mission, don't worry, it's rarely anything dangerous. We let you go on one and see what you think. If you want to stay after that we'll let you in with open arms, but if you don't, you get to go."

Gilbert didn't say a word. There wasn't much else to say. If he really wanted to he could just walk out right here and right now, pretending that this just never happened, but would he? It was crazy, no insane to even consider staying here, but if he just left, nothing was waiting for him. His father didn't want him home, he'd just be a burden to his friends, and he had no desire to go to college and pursue a career that would make him a corporate slave. He could die, but was the life he had really worth living? Gilbert could hardly believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. They were too stupid for him to believe, but it just felt so right.

"Why the hell not," Gilbert smirked weakly, "I'll do it."

The man blinked a couple of times, processing just what the albino had just agreed to. He broke out into a huge grin. "Really, that's great!" He exclaimed, taking Gilbert's uninjured hand and shaking it uncontrollably. "I really didn't expect for you to accept it so quickly."

Snatching his hand back, Gilbert glared at the man. "Watch it, I just might take it back."

"Apologies," the man said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I forgot, I haven't introduced myself, how rude of me. My name is Romulus Vargas, the boss of this Agency." Romulus gave Gilbert a slight bow.

"I could give less of a-"

Romulus pulled Gilbert out of the hospital bed, causing the albino to yelp. It was the first time he noticed all the sores aching on his body. Romulus didn't seem to care though. The man dragged Gilbert out of the hospital room. Gilbert attempted to pry Romulus' hands off of him, it failed. The man had an iron grip on Gilbert's wrist. Romulus pulled Gilbert down a long hallway. Gilbert hung his head low while people shot passing glances at the two, but they went back to work as if all of this was normal. What in the world did he just agree to?

Gilbert was pushed into a room, Romulus followed after, closing the door behind him. There was a long row of booths all lined up one after another. On top of those booths were a pair of headphones. Past them were targets, shaped like a human. It was a familiar sight, Gilbert had seen it hundreds of times. Romulus handed Gilbert a familiar tool.

Gilbert took it without hesitation. A small pistol laid in his hands. This was a gun range, this was a test.

"I am quite aware that you have an injury and I don't expect for you to be at your best, but I still want to see what you can do..."

Romulus was still talking, but Gilbert managed to tune him out. Was this how Elizabeta felt when he rambled to her? The next time he sees her he would have to apologize…. That's if he ever gets to see her again. Gilbert shook the girl out of his head and snapped the headphones onto his ears. He could feel Romulus' eyes on him. Gilbert focused his eyes on the target ahead of him. He aimed his gun at the target. He felt his uninjured hand tremble as he attempted to adjust his hand. His other hand was throbbing with a dull pain. He considered putting both hands on the pistol but decided against it. Gilbert canted the gun ever so slightly. He leaned forward and fixed his position.

Gilbert shot. Five rounds went straight into the target, concentrated around the chest. They weren't perfect, but it would've taken down a man. Gilbert scowled as he saw the result. Sloppy work, he could've done better. Gilbert turned to see Romulus staring at Gilbert, mildly impressed.

"Huh, you did good kid," Romulus commented, "I mean you're already doing better than more than half of our recruits. Most don't even know how to shot to save their lives."

Gilbert really wanted to ask, why bother try to recruit them, but he bit his tongue instead. It figured it wouldn't be a great idea. Romulus looked down at his wristwatch. "It's getting pretty late, I'll show you to your room. Get some sleep, tomorrow is going to be a long day for you."

* * *

The second Gilbert snapped his eyes open, he was quickly whisked away. A cup of coffee was shoved into his hands. Gilbert barely got a sip of coffee when he was pushed into a dressing room. Waiting for him in there was a bulletproof vest, pair of black pants, and a grey dress shirt. Then it hit him. They were doing it today? It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since he had arrived, and they were throwing him into the trial run now? He wasn't ready, but then again when was he ready. He wasn't ready when he was being shot at and he definitely wasn't ready when he was falling. Gilbert put the uniform on. It was heavy but manageable.

Gilbert left the dressing room and was led to another room. This time it was bigger. A TV in the middle of the room, couches surrounding it. A small coffee table was in between. A couple of plants were nestled in the corner of the room adding some color to the room. It was a living room. Gilbert chuckled, a living room in a place like this. Two people were already there. Amelia was sitting in the love seat across from the tv. She offered him a grin and a wave. The other person was lying down on the couch. He looked young, he looked about thirteen, Asian. The teen lifted his head to greet Gilbert.

"Yo," He chirped waving at the man, "You're Gilbert right. I'm Yong-Soo." Yong-Soo sat up, leaving room for Gilbert to sit. "Heard you got shot at while coming here, I'm surprised that you're still alive."

"Yong-Soo!"

The teen let out a nervous chuckle. "Sorry Amelia, but you know-"

"Yong-Soo," Amelia said warningly. She turned to Gilbert and shot him an apologetic look. "Sorry 'bout him, he's a… a special case."

"HEY!"

"I'm pretty sure this should be everyone though.." Amelia muttered, "Then why isn't boss here?"

"Because he was waiting for me."

Yong-Soo flinched at the sound of the voice. A string of curses exited his mouth. Amelia simply let out a sigh. A giant man strolled into the room. Gilbert recognized him as one of the men who accompanied Amelia into the hospital room. He was tall and burly. His hair was grey, borderline silver. He was young, Gilbert could guess that he was about his age. He walked in with a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. What was his name again? Isaiah… no, Ivan. He could see Yong-Soo glaring daggers the newcomer.

"What are you doing here," Yong-Soo hissed, backing away defensively.

Ivan barely glanced at Yong-Soo. "The chairman told me to come along." He replied curtly. This only seemed to enrage Yong-Soo more.

"Well, we don't ne-"

"And you would be a great addition kid!" Amelia cut in nervously.

Romulus walked into the room. "Yes he would," He said, eyeing Yong-Soo, "Don't you think so too?"

Yong-Soo grumbled sinking back into the couch. "Sure, do whatever."

Romulus clapped his hand in approval. "Now that we're all here, he can start with the debriefing," He chirped, "Jejudo, would you like the take the floor?"

The teen got off the couch and snatched a remote off the coffee table. He pointed it towards the tv, turning it on. The TV lit up revealing a warehouse. "Yesterday twenty-eight women were taken captive by a group of terrorists. They have not yet revealed this information to the public and it is unknown what their motive is." Gilbert felt his stomach lurch as he heard those word. This was real and it was his trial run? The thought made him sick. "We believe reason that this is a hostage situation instead of a human trafficking one. We have to get them out of their before they even have the chance to name their price." The screen flipped to a new picture. It was the blueprint of the warehouse. "We don't know this group and it is unpredictable how they'll behave, so we ask for no casualties on either side, the second that you guys are out of there with all the hostages, the law enforcement will take it from there."

Yong-Soo continued to explain the plan for this mission. If Gilbert hadn't just seen a young girl on the field just the day before, this would've been the most surprising thing. His mood had completely shifted from the angry teen to an elite strategist. A teenager taking charge of a mission. They were resting the lives of twenty-eight people on a young teenager's plan and Gilbert was almost completely fine with it. He listened tentatively to every detail and when Yong-Soo was finished, Gilbert couldn't help but stare in awe.

Romulus turned off the TV and stared at the four. "I know that this is a lot different from our trial runs," He started, not even attempting to calm Gilbert's nerves, "but I know you four can handle it." He broke out into a grin. "Now get out and make me proud."


End file.
